


Sturdy

by yeaka



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 19:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11192058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Venelia finds Menalippe hard at work for the pleasure of their people. And them specifically.





	Sturdy

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for “Cabin” prompt on [my bingo card](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/158937866370/fic-bingo). Fair warning I know nothing about Wonder Woman beyond the 2017 movie.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Wonder Woman or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

She follows the vague directions of others who saw Menalippe depart, and after the first hill, she knows where to go; she can _sense_ it, like an invisible string drawn between them, or maybe the distance scent of Menalippe’s favourite lavender soap on the wind. Venelia rides out from the city, off towards the sea, with the sky as blue as it’s hot. It’s a surprisingly long way before she actually _sees_ anything, and then only a speck—a little box of wood in the valley below. Venelia spurs her stead faster and leans forward, squinting through the sun.

Down into the meadow, she sees where towering logs have been laid, arranged in a rough rectangle, some stacked upon each other. Slender beams cover the floor of it, not unequal to the tiles of the city. Venelia rides around the installation once, just taking it in, while Menalippe gives her a smile and continues chopping wood out front. When Venelia reaches there again, she slows, then dismounts in one fluid leap, and her horse trots curiously on to sniff at the construction.

Venelia heads straight for Menalippe, asking with genuine surprise, “What are you doing?”

Menalippe’s grin grows with some sort of secret—one she’s clearly about to share—and she bends to place another log onto the stump she’s working at. She lifts her silver axe high above her head and brings it raining down—the wood slices easily in two, each side left smooth. As Menalippe chops the rounder side clean away, she answers, “Building a cabin.”

Venelia’s head tilts to the side. She takes another step closer, though Menalippe still doesn’t stop for her. It does look like the beginning of a small home, but Venelia still expected a different answer, mainly because: “Are you no longer happy living in Antiope’s estate?”

Menalippe lets out a little laugh and shakes her pretty head, her dark braid sliding back over her shoulder. Venelia hadn’t thought so; Menalippe would follow Antiope anywhere, straight across the sea and back. Menalippe specifies, “It’s for _us_.”

Even though more questions flood Venelia’s mind, they’re overwhelmed by the temporary burst of butterflies in her stomach. Her chest clenches, and it takes tangible effort to still hold herself tall, to not fly into Menalippe’s arms like a silly child. Menalippe often does that to her, even though she _tries_ to be as grand and stern as the senators she serves. Only when she’s sure her voice won’t shake does she ask, “Am I expected to move out here?” Because she _does_ like her current home, so close to the market and the training field as it is, but to be with _Menalippe_...

Menalippe finally stops chopping. She straightens up and lifts an arm to wipe the sweat from her forehead—she’s glistening in the midday sun, tempting and promising. Sometimes, when the light silhouettes her properly, and she gets the fire in her eyes like her mentor, she looks like she could do _anything_. But she shakes her head and says, “Not move. Just... to stay out here now and again. And others can, if they like. The city is lovely, of course... but I think it’d be good for couples to have a private retreat on Themyscira, don’t you?”

Venelia certainly does, and held in that light, something of a vacation, a special, rare treat, the idea seems all the more romantic. The closest they’ve come yet to being truly _alone_ together was out in the field, and that doesn’t make for the most private place. If nothing else, their horses might appreciate their obscenities kept indoors.

Menalippe prods, “Well?”

And Venelia returns, “It’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure the queen would be pleased.”

“Who do you think suggested it to me?” Menalippe laughs. “You know how curious and quick Diana is—I think it’s put closed doors more in her mind.”

Venelia blushes bright pink at the thought, but she nods right after, pushing embarrassing hypotheticals aside to ask, “Could you use a hand?”

Menalippe answers, “Always,” and tosses her axe over. Venelia catches it easily and gives it a single swing to test its weight, then nods. She could work with it.

She could work with Menalippe. She joins Menalippe to carry the next log, and together, they set down the foundation.


End file.
